


move your body (at least quit taking up the entire couch)

by LydiaOfNarnia



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 06:58:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10939341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/LydiaOfNarnia
Summary: He's like a dog, Joe realizes. His boyfriend is like a really stubborn, attention-seeking dog, and Joe doesn't hate it half as much as he should.





	move your body (at least quit taking up the entire couch)

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, the characters in this fic are based off of their fictional portrayals from the miniseries Band of Brothers, and I mean no disrespect to the real-life veterans!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [renelemaires](http://renelemaires.tumblr.com/)!

"Move," Joe says, nudging his boyfriend's legs with his knee. His only response is a groan as George, spread across the couch like a very sad blanket, rolls onto his side.

"No."

"What d'you mean, _'no'?_ I just asked you nicely." Joe adjusts the laptop on his hip and gives George another nudge, a wordless cue to get out of his way.

"Not nice enough. My entire body's about to fall off."

Annoyance paints a scowl across Joe's face as he glares down at his boyfriend. Sure, George has enough of a reason to be exhausted -- finals are breaking his back, and his boss has been on his ass all week. Joe has work too, however, and he has to get these reports typed up and sent in to his own boss by tonight or else it's _his_ job on the line.

"Luz," he says in a voice that brokers no arguments. It's his dead-serious tone, and George must finally get the hint that he isn't screwing around because he reluctantly drags his legs to the other end of the couch.

Joe mutters a thanks that is no less sincere for his irritated tone. George huffs as he draws into himself; Joe can almost hear his joints popping from the strain. He can't help wincing as he cracks his laptop open. Sometimes seeing George so wrung out makes his a little grateful not to be in college.

(Then his mind jumps to missed opportunities and lack of funds, and _nope,_ that wisp of thought vanishes as quickly as it appeared.)

He focuses on typing up his reports, but George is no easy person to ignore.

"I think I'm dying."

"Don't do it on the freakin' sofa."

"Joe." He stretches the single syllable out for so long that it makes Joe's teeth grind. Any other time he would kill to hear his name moaned like that, but he's trying to get things done here. It gets harder to push his boyfriend out of his mind when bony feet begin to knead into the small of his back, right where Joe always aches after a long day at work. He isn't sure if Luz is trying to be annoying, but it feels _good._

“Stop,” Joe whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. “I need to finish this.”

“What is it?”

“Site reports. Recapping the week, shit like that. It's all really bo-- _dammit,_ George.” He cuts off with a tiny moan as George kneads his feet hard into a sweet spot at the bottom of his spine. If this keeps up, soon he's going to be as useless as his boyfriend.

He knows what George is doing. He’s trying to get him relaxed, make him comfortable and calm, until Joe’s as much of a melted lump of lethargy as he is. Then George will get his way, napping with his boyfriend until one or both of them are guilt-tripped back into motion by the weight of actual responsibility.It's not the first time he's been on the receiving end of his scheme, and it wouldn't be the first time he gave in.

(He can't help it -- Luz is really convincing, and _really_ easy to cuddle.)

Joe grits his teeth and fights the urge to look over. If he glances at George, he knows he'll be as good as defeated. Instead, he tries to edge away from George’s foot. He's rewarded with another groan, and a sudden kick to his shoulder.

“Hey!”

“Come on,” whines George. “At least let me stretch out.”

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine,” Joe hisses. He's not sure why he's surprised when the set of wandering feet promptly plant themselves in his lap. Readjusting his laptop, he somehow finds room on top of his boyfriend’s ankles to balance his laptop and starts typing away again.

If Joe was having an easy day, or if George was an easy person, that would be the end of it. That's not the end of it.

It's only a matter of minutes before George begins shifting in his lap. Joe casts him an annoyed look, interrupted just as he’s finally getting somewhere in his report. George meets his eyes defiantly, and pulls his feet from Joe’s lap just in time to nearly topple his laptop. By the time Joe manages to resteady it, George is already performing some weird feats of aerobics to turn himself around on the couch without actually sitting up.

“What the hell are you doing?” Joe demands, nevertheless steadying George before he can topple over the side. His boyfriend’s dexterity is nothing to laugh at. Somehow he manages to spin around on the leather until his head is hovering over Joe’s lap.

“Don't you dare,” says Joe.

George plants his head right on top of Joe’s thighs.

 _“Dammit,_ Luz.”

There's nowhere for him to put his laptop now, but George’s face betrays not an ounce of shame. Joe moves to push him off on instinct, but hesitates at the peaceful look his boyfriend now wears. George might be damn proud of himself, but he also looks more content than he has since he got home and collapsed on the sofa.

He could push him off, and he should, but dammit, Joe just can't. He's not a monster, and he'll be the first to admit that he's got a serious weak spot for George Luz.

“That’s a nice pillow, huh?”

“Mmm. Solid muscle.” George looks like he's in heaven.

Joe huffs and ruffles his boyfriend’s hair. This quickly turns into patting George’s head, which turns into massaging his scalp, which leaves George a sleepy mess spread all over his lap.

He's like a dog, Joe realizes. His boyfriend is like a really stubborn, attention-seeking dog, and Joe doesn't hate it half as much as he should. (He doesn't hate anything about George, even at his most annoying.)

Sighing, Joe resigns himself to the fact that his work will have to wait for later. For now, there's something more pressing to focus on, and George has made it clear that he doesn't want to be ignored.


End file.
